


brittle bones

by painintheassnojutsu



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:36:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painintheassnojutsu/pseuds/painintheassnojutsu
Summary: It doesn't surprise me. Really, we should've expected it.





	brittle bones

**Author's Note:**

> Beta is [falterth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/falterth)! Go shower them with love!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoy!

My eyes scan the room lazily as I enter. Blood, I notice, is covering the floor. I suppose the cleanup team has some grudge against our clan, just like everyone else.

 

It doesn't surprise me. Really, we should've expected it.

 

Really.

 

(That doesn't mean we don't flinch at the sight of the crusty brown stains, at the sight of his parents’ blood. I remember when my own parents were found . . . )

 

I don't know how I feel, though, about the law that insists we live in the compound despite the . . .  _ disgusting _ state it’s in.

 

I purse my lips.

 

I think his mother has  ~~_ had _ ~~ cleaning supplies in the closet. I open the door, moving things around. There must be a mop and bucket somewhere . . . ah, there they are.

 

I fill the bucket with water, pouring the cleaner in and mixing with the mop.

 

It takes hours to rid the room of the worst of it.

 

( _~~There's still blood staining the floor. My parents . . .~~ _ )

 

If, for a moment, I see the image of his parents slain on the floor, we don’t react. If someone looked at me right then, the most they could assume is that his parents made us mop the floor and we weren't too happy about it.

 

I drop my mop, stumbling to the bathroom, and I climb onto his step-stool.

 

I stare into the bathroom mirror, a frown marring his face. We look tired. I don't know why, though, because I don't  _ feel _ tired.

 

I don't think I feel much of anything, though, aside from confusion.

 

Confusion is something I can understand. Confusion about our brother, about the law, about the disdain the clan had to face ( _ my clan, it’s my clan, I’m their head, I've always loved them, always, even when they refused to listen, they're my—they're my  _ **_family_ ** _ , even when they thought I killed Izuna, they— _ ), about the disgust lying beneath the nurses’ smiles and kind words, the uninterested gaze the Hokage held for me ( _ or was it for him? _ ).

 

There are many things I am confused about. More than almost anything, though . . .

 

More than anything, I am confused about myself.

 

I don't understand who I’m supposed to be. The Last Uchiha (the  _ weakest _ Uchiha), Itachi’s little brother (the less prodigal), the second son of the clan head (the backup heir), the top student of my year (not that it counted for much in the one moment that strength actually  _ mattered _ ), one of those  _ damned _ Uchiha bastards ( _ cursed child _ ), Uchiha Sasuke . . . Uchiha Madara?

 

( ~~_ Who is Uchiha Madara? _ ~~ )

 

I frown even harder, trying to remember  _ exactly  _ who I was  ~~_ am _ ~~ and how I came to  _ be _ the person I am  ~~_ was _ ~~ .

 

I believe I was someone else, just a while ago. He was someone else, too. I think we are the same person. I think we always have been.

 

I come up with nothing more, although we can recall something his father said to him, once, when he ran to his parents’ room crying after a nightmare.

 

_ “We can't cry, son. An Uchiha can never risk showing emotion. Not even in the supposed safety of our own homes. It's hard, though, isn't it? Feeling so much more than the average person, and yet being unable to show our hearts. I'm sorry, Sasuke. I'm so sorry.” _

 

I, for a moment, thought the man was being shallow, honestly. But now,  _ now _ I understand. I remember. We  _ can't  _ cry. He wasn't reprimanding Sasuke, he was sympathizing with him. He was  _ warning _ him. We can't give any reason for the village to think we are less than them. We can't let them think they can just shove us aside, that they can just—

 

_ Remove us from the village. For good. They've removed me once already, and now—everyone else— _

 

I exhale slowly.

 

The boy’s emotions are bleeding over into mine. We both need to calm down.

 

_ We need to calm down. _

 

I inhale deeply.

 

Mother used to say we are always too quick to panic.

 

I hold my breath.

 

I guess she was right.

 

I exhale.

 

It's Sasuke’s birthday today.

 

Inhale.

 

He's eight, now.

 

Hold.

 

Funny, how Itachi just happened to murder everyone right before we . . .

 

Exhale.

 

Dark spots obscure my vision. Our vision?

 

I suppose one could say Sasuke and I have  _ always _ been one and the same.

 

We’ve just never met until now.

 

_ Madara and Sasuke, one and the same. Who would've thought, huh? _

 

Our body hits the floor, a smile that could make babies cry decorating our face.

 

_ Look at us now. Look what you've done to us. _


End file.
